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As if the thermos of Luzianne wasn't inspiring enough, I had to jump on the bandwagon for the run to the Seattle Yuppie Java Jihad. A regular with a double-shot of espresso later, I've got major fidgets. Ants In My Pants. Heart pumping to the disco beat. Woo-Woo! Since giving up major investments in the coffee bean... my favorite pierced-and-tattooed peeps no longer slaving behind the counter (catering to soulless sophisticates) I couldn't remember the name of my former drink of choice... which turned out to be "Depth Charge." Two shots in a regular coffee (1-shot="RedEye", 3-shots="Kennedy," in these parts, anyway). Way too dependent upon caffeine, these days... not to mention my other chemical indulgences. Too many years of the night shift... I need starter fluid in the morning. And most of the day, unfortunately. Beats Black Russians, I suppose. Nice thing about Ellie's "treehouse" has been the balcony. After stumbling slit-eyed to the kitchen and half-consciously setting up the I.V., that's destination one. After putting some pants on, of course. Most of the leaves have shaken off this mortal coil. While sucking down that first cup, I watched the last few remaining lazily cascade in the stiff breeze to terra firma like lifeless birds. Bare tree landscape until March. Must. Go. South. For. Winter. I won't be sitting here at work for much longer. Can't stay still, for one thing. For another, Typhoid Jim is back today, spreading germs like the Johnny Appleseed of Pestilence. Coughing at such a regular cadence that it's like listening to sampled Hip Hop: "Yo, Dude got his phlegm on Up in this piece A Hork.. A Snort.. Mucous Release. Booo-Eeeee..." (A-Hack-A-Hack) Sorry. I blame the caffeine.
A Little Ray Of Sunshine. That's Me. |
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